


Bonjour Bitches

by dis_connected



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Episode: s10e01, F/F, M/M, also i legit had no clue how to end it so i dragged it out for ages to avoid it, but an au, even if they don't speak, fuck my life, i didn't have the time or space to allow everyone a line, i was just in bed typing like hmm what next oh i know, i wrote it instead of revising for the exam i had in the morning, i'm tired as shit, it's all dialogue, it's episode one so literally everybody is there, just imagine they're there in spirit, like don't read it, none of this is realistic, ok that's it bye y'all, pretend cracker and aquaria have never met, seriously there's mad errors don't come for me, this actually sucks ass, this was at one in the morning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 02:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14906612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dis_connected/pseuds/dis_connected
Summary: um, so basically this is a soulmate tattoo au, aka the most cliche concept in history, that every pairing possible in the universe has. i saw someone do this with the season 10 entrance and i liked it but i wanted to take a different spin on it. so the background of miz cracker and aquaria is different than in real life, obviously, as they've never met.i REALLY have to credit @eightlyn here because their story literally made me write this and i don't want to plagarize or whatever i just wanted to do my own spin on it :-)





	Bonjour Bitches

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [bonjour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14895063) by [eightlyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eightlyn/pseuds/eightlyn). 



> i've never written anything about queens before, so didn't really know what pronouns or anything to use. i went with what i thought was right, but i was a little iffy in places like when i was talking about cracker as a kid and aquaria liking cracker out of drag. if you think i should change it LET ME KNOW GOD DAMN. also this is barely edited i am sorry

_Bonjour! Sorry to keep you waiting_

Miz Cracker has been staring at those words inked into her skin for as long as she can remember. All her life, people have poked fun at it. Oh, the irony of it. The irony that grows every year she gets older and is still kept waiting.

As a kid, Max pictured a waiter, after someone who served his family said something along those lines at a very busy restaurant when he was ten. He always begged his mom to let them eat out as much as possible, wanting to go to the busiest restaurants with the longest lines, but they didn’t always have the money. They tried to go out once a month, his mom only agreeing because she knew how happy it made her child, if only for a little bit. Max lived for those meals, although sometimes they had to skip them. As he got a little older, he noticed his mom counting pennies with tears running down her cheeks a night before their monthly dinner was scheduled, and decided to stop asking.

His late teens and start of young adulthood was when Max started giving up hope. Lots of his friends had met their soulmates, and he was an angsty teen who believed nobody would ever love him. The teasing about the irony of the tattoo running along his forearm really started to get to him as well. He knew it was all in good fun, mostly, but it kept him up at night. How long would he have to wait? What if he was lying in a retirement home, aged ninety, barely able to move or do anything for himself and he finally heard those dreadful words, before immediately suffering a stroke. Oh, fate, thou art a cruel mistress.

And so, Cracker started to cover them up. With thick layers of makeup, with clothing, with bracelets, with anything she could find. And, most of the time, she forgot about them. Stopped thinking about who would say to them, and when. Of course, there were times when the thoughts flicked across her mind; every Valentine’s Day, or every time she watched a romantic movie or saw a couple holding hands in the street, or spent time with someone who was oh so loved up. So, a lot really.

Getting into drag allowed her to focus on herself more, rather than this mysterious soulmate of hers. Plus, it improved her makeup skills to the point where she could actually cover her tattoo properly. Which was a bonus. It excited Cracker that she could reach a wide range of people who actually _liked_ her when she didn’t even like herself. And, okay, maybe part of her was still sort of hoping that reaching all these people would mean a higher chance of her hearing those infamous words. In a way, it kind of did.

Because when she signed up to Drag Race and _got a place oh my god_ , thoughts of her stupid, nonexistent soulmate were far from her mind, and yet, it was as she stood excitedly in the Werk Room with the other queens waiting to see who was next to waltz in when she heard _it_.

Oh. My. God.

Cracker feels her jaw slack, her eyes bulge and her whole body turn cold. Her right forearm burns and itches under its layer of makeup as she holds back a scream. Or vomit. Or both.

It’s fucking Aquaria.

_Aquaria._

_AQUARIA,_ that bitch who publically accuses her of being a copycat, of stealing her looks and her shows, who hates her guts.

Has just said the words imprinted on her arm.

Cracker realizes with a start that they have gone above and beyond to avoid each other since Aquaria started drag. She doesn’t turn up to her shows, and vice versa. She’s never heard that bitch speak, until now. Jesus Christ.

Cracker can’t breathe. She vaguely registers Monet beside her screaming and laughing and nudging her, because she is damn aware of the beef between the two New York queens and knows it will cause a shitstorm in the competition.

She watches, frozen in her place, probably looking like a complete fool as Aquaria greets and kisses people, before locking eyes with her.

Cracker’s heart falls out her padded ass. She realizes she has a decision to make. Either she must speak to her and reveal on _television_ the truth. Or, she could just not speak. Then she has the upper hand over Aquaria. The ball is well and truly in her court.

Okay, fuck, she thinks. I can’t speak to her.

She smiles tightly at Aquaria, her lips sealed, who greets her with a borderline shady comment about how they always miss each other. Everybody picks up on the pure shade and tension between them, the New York queens all screaming, as they know the beef, and everybody else filling in the blanks. Or, Monet filling in the blanks as she yells out the issue at full volume.

At least Cracker can hide behind that, for now.

She manages to avoid Aquaria, only speaking when she’s sure she won’t be able to hear, and still cautiously quietly.

Fuck, she’s done for.

As the queens start making their looks for the challenge, Cracker decides that the best thing she can do is get lost in creating her look. Thankfully, unlike most other girls it seems, sewing is right up her alley, so her focus can stay, she hopes, on her work.

About ten minutes in, she’s ferociously cutting some material, imagining it’s her beloved new soulmate’s head and probably looking insane when Monet walks up to her looking amused.

“Bitch, what are you doing?”

“Oh, hey girl, what’s up?” Cracker replies, not looking at her friend.

“You are acting _weird_ , you crazy ass. What is going on?”

Cracker must subconsciously glance at Aquaria who is doing something obnoxious probably, because Monet rolls her eyes.

“Girl, are you telling me this is about _Aquaria_? I love me some drama, but you gotta let it go or that feud will eat you alive in this competition,” Monet ponders wisely, her advice probably ringing true if all this was about was the feud between the two queens.

Cracker sighs, finally putting down her tattered material to look at her friend. She has a choice to make – tell Monet or keep it to herself?

Okay, she wouldn’t mind some advice. Monet is the _best_ at that.

“It’s not the feud that’s bothering me,” Cracker groans, pulling up her sleeve and shoving her forearm in Monet’s face. “Look at this shit.”

“I’m looking, bitch, damn,” Monet grabs Cracker’s waving arm, trying to read the words tattooed on it. “Girl, that is some fucked up shit. You’re like fifty, still waiting for someone to say this to you?”

“Oh – shut – I’m not fifty you rude bitch. And I’m not waiting either, it’s been said.”

Monet blinks.

“Girl, I’m not a fucking mind reader. Who’s your soulmate?” she asks, already over Cracker’s mind games.

“Which bitch said this as she came into the Werk Room, Monet?” the queen asks in reply, pulling a face that can only remind Monet of a toddler who isn’t getting what they want.

“I don’t fucking know I was thinking about their looks not what was coming out their mouths, bitch.” Monet is over it.

“Oh, my god, you’re thick.”

“Bitch-”

 “Aquaria,” Cracker hisses, barely audible, checking around to make sure no one is paying attention. Thankfully, they’re all too focused on their looks to notice the conversation occurring between the two New York queens. “Has just said this fucking shit!”

“BITCH!” Monet screams, her jaw dropping to the floor as she stares at the smaller girl in utter shock.

Cracker shushes her, as loads of pairs of eyes turn their focus on them.

“Oh, my fucking god, you are not serious, hoe I am screaming what the fuck!” Monet babbles, as her mind attempts to register the information that’s just been thrown at her.

“Yeah, I fucking know,” Cracker sighs sadly, pouting.

“Girl that’s fucking incest or some shit, y’all are twins-”

“Monet, please, I cannot,” Cracker cuts her off, starting to regather her material in an attempt to continue with her work.

“Well, what did she say when she realized?” Monet asks, kind of excited at this new prospect. She admittedly never understood why Cracker and Aquaria have had such a huge feud in the first place, when they could have easily become friends.

Cracker is silent for a second or two, which makes Monet extremely impatient, whacking her friend with a sponge that she somehow plans on using.

“Ow, bitch! Damn! She doesn’t know,” Cracker whines.

“What do you mean she _doesn’t know_?”

“ _I mean_ I’ve not spoken to her.”

“BITCH!” Monet screams for the second time, earning more glances of shade from other queens who are clueless as to what is going on. “What the fuck?”

“I’m playing the upper hand-”

“Why? Girl literally _why_?”

“I don’t want her to know, okay? Fucking hell,” Cracker grumbles.

“You know she is going to hear you speak at some point? On the runway? In untucked? While the judges critique you? When-”

“Alright, already, I get it,” Cracker moans, even though she knows Monet has a point, as usual.

“What in the hell is going on here?” Yuhua has come over to see what the fuss is about. Cracker rolls her eyes as Monet jumps on the spot, clearly excited.

“Cracker is being a little bitch!” she exclaims

“Yeah, whatever. Ugh, for fuck's sake,” Cracker says, deciding she might as well let Yuhua in on the secret before Monet just tells her anyway. “You remember what Aquaria said when she came in?”

“Yeah, bonjour bitches or some shit, why?”

“She’s got it tattooed on her arm,” Monet grins excitedly, cutting her off.

“What? I don’t get- oh. Oh! OH, MY GOD!” Yuhua yells, thankfully not as loud as Monet, but the other queens have clearly noticed that something is going with Cracker, who is looking embarrassed and amused as her New York friends chatter about what that means. She catches Aquaria’s eye, who is looking at her like she wants her dead.

_Oh, god. Why me?_

It probably doesn’t help that Monet and Yuhua are whispering and _pointing_ at Aquaria, like the most unsubtle humans on the planet. Helpful, truly.

The Vixen comes over to their little gathering, looking unimpressed.

“Okay, y’all better tell me what’s going on, or y’all can fuck off, you annoying ass bitches,” she says, looking at the three queens with disinterest.

One by one, every queen finds out, with the exception of Aquaria, which is not exactly what Cracker had in mind when she told Monet her problem.

Nobody really gets why Cracker won’t just fucking talk to Aquaria, and Cracker herself starts to doubt her reason was anything more than fear, but oh well, she’s committed to it now.

Aquaria gets more and more pissed off as each queen finds out. She makes it her mission to stay out of whatever Cracker’s doing, which is probably an attempt to annoy her and throw her off, as it’s clearly about her, from the way literally everybody in the room keeps looking at her.

Let them look, Aquaria thinks, as she angrily sews her garment. I’m fucking fabulous.

Asia comes over and sits next to her sewing machine to start to sew her own clothes, glancing out the corner of the eye at Aquaria in a way she thinks is subtle.

“Girl, what?” Aquaria finally snaps when Asia looks at her for the millionth time. Asia simply smiles.

“Have you spoken to Cracker yet?”

“No, why would I do that?” Aquaria sighs dramatically.

“You should speak to Cracker,” Asia says nonchalantly, smiling at her sewing machine.

Aquaria feels rage rise inside of her. She knows she has to find out what’s going on, but if she doesn’t focus on her look for the runway, Drag Race will be over for her before it even starts. Which, fuck, was exactly what that bitch wanted.

Plus, there are cameras everywhere watching their every move, and she’d rather control how she comes across as well as she can. If she explodes at Cracker in the very first episode, that will not be good for her, and will above all make her look really childish, which is the last thing she wants, being such a young queen.

So she waits, avoiding Cracker as much as she can. Finally, when the show is over and the girls are backstage with no cameras in sight, she notices the Jewish queen alone by a mirror, finishing off taking the last of her makeup off.

 “What?” Aquaria asks Cracker, when she reaches her. She is completely ignored by the queen, who gives her a glance and goes back to scrubbing at the last of her lipstick.

“Cracker for fuck’s sake! Just tell me what’s going on before I strangle you, bitch!”

The entire room is watching them, and pretending not to. Everybody is rooting for the pair to be together by now, and are all anxiously hoping Miz Cracker just fucking speaks to Aquaria, before she dies.

“Okay, fine, I give up, goddammit! I’m talking to you,” Cracker exclaims.

Aquaria starts to say something, but immediately freezes. Cracker watches her as she goes through the same process she did, before pure horror fills her face.

“Show me,” Cracker says simply. Wordlessly, Aquaria lifts up her shirt to reveal a tattoo on her hipbone, reading _Okay, fine, I give up_ in beautiful cursive.

“Well, if that doesn’t sum me up,” Cracker lets out a laugh as Aquaria drops her shirt again.

“Fuck,” she whispers in disbelief. “But, I hate you!”

“Uh huh,” Cracker says with a sigh. “I am aware.”

“Well, I guess you’re trying to steal my heart as well as my looks now, then,” Aquaria smirks.

Cracker is furious that she has lost her upper hand to this arrogant bitch, already.

“I’m not trying to steal shit, bitch! I am disgusted that your words are on my fucking arm. Why would I want to be with someone so self-centred, arrogant and rude? Plus, you are literally twelve. When I was your age you were nine goddammit!”

“And yet I’m _so_ much better at drag than you,” Aquaria snaps back, but it turns out as more of a tease than an insult.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right, you’re _so_ gorgeous and your looks are _so_ amazing. It’s a shame you have no personality!” Cracker replies, her tone however borderline playful and a smile fighting her lips. She wants to see how far she can push Aquaria.

“Well, maybe you should stop relying on yours, and _my_ looks!” This is in no means an insult at this point. Both queens are enjoying themselves, and they both know it, they just want to see who will crack first.

“I get the feeling this is not going well,” Monet says from the other side of the room, to nobody in particular.

“Oh, they’ll get there,” says Kameron with a smile, thinking of the hatred she had towards her boyfriend when they first met.

“Season 10 is off to a great start,” Eureka says slyly. “I just love love!”

“Fuck you!” yells Miz Cracker from the other side of the room, nearly bursting into laughter.

“Those girls have some issues, damn,” Asia raises her eyebrows, admittedly eager to see what happens with the two queens.

“More issues that vogue, honey,” Monique says, which causes everybody to chuckle.

“Well, I’m glad we got that out the way,” Aquaria says after a while of back and forth nonsensical bickering that neither of the two queens really mean.

It takes a second, but both girls laugh a little, in a kind of ironic, fuck my life type way. It is picked up by everybody else, who at this point are all beyond confused at the smiles on both the queen’s faces.

“Jesus Christ, this is so stupid,” Cracker groans, slumping in a chair, Aquaria perching next to her.

“Now what’s happening?” Monet says, trying to crane her neck to look at them.

“I feel like we should leave them be and when we come back maybe they’ll be fucking?” Vixen replies, knowing that nothing will happen if there are 12 other queens staring at them. The girls agree and slowly file out to leave the other two in peace to ‘bond’, as Blair puts it, ‘fuck’ as everybody else puts it.

Aquaria takes a moment to look over Cracker for the first time, and realizes that she’s really hot out of drag. As Max.

“Oh well, at least you’re my type. I mean, as a boy. Not when we look the same,” Aquaria says with a sigh.

Cracker looks up from where her head is resting in her palm in surprise.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were attracted to me in drag. You are a huge narcissist,” she says.

“I thought we were done being mean? I just said you’re my type, bitch,” Aquaria pouts, though she’s not even a little bit serious.

“You honestly think I’m hot?” Cracker’s mind is whirring away. She has _no_ self-confidence, particularly out of drag, despite the show she puts on, and wonders if Aquaria is fucking with her.

“Why wouldn’t I?” The younger queen seems genuinely confused as to Cracker’s doubt, seeing nothing wrong with her appearance.

“Because I’m, well, me? And you’re, I guess, you?” Cracker’s voice is small as she refuses to make eye contact with Aquaria.

“You think you’re ugly?”

Cracker shrugs, indicating that she thought it was obvious. She’s always viewed herself as ugly out of drag, which is one of the reasons she started it in the first place. So she could pretend she was hot.  Aquaria’s heart breaks a little at what the older queen is saying, especially as she found her (and him) so hot. She deserved to have a lot more confidence.

“You think I’m hot?” Aquaria grins after a pause.

“Shut up, you _know_ you’re hot,” Cracker rolls her eyes.

The sleeve of Cracker’s turtleneck that she shoved on after the show has risen up slightly, revealing the _Bonj_ of her tattoo. Cracker catches Aquaria looking at it and pulls her sleeve back down self-consciously.

“I hate this thing so much,” she says. “Literally how long I have been waiting to hear it, I fucking gave up.”

“Mine’s worse,” Aquaria grins, reminding Cracker of the tragic first words she said to her. Growing up, Aquaria had no idea what to even expect from who could say those, filling in blanks about the context and reasons behind it.

“Well, at least you can cover it up easily. Every time I’m on stage I’m shitting it that my makeup will rub off and everyone will _destroy_ me,” Cracker sighs.

“Girl, I am someone who does not like to cover up a lot of skin, trust me it’s a challenge. I’ve just been kinda excited for when someone said those words, then I could show it off with pride.”

“Aw, you still had hope? I think I did when I was your age, too. Little did I know my soulmate was a fucking 9-year-old.”

“Fuck off, everybody says I’m mature for my age. Besides, you’re so tiny, who can tell?”

“I am not tiny!” Cracker exclaims, clutching her chest in mock horror.

“Oh, fuck off. What are you? 5’3? 5’4?” Aquaria teases.

“ _5’5_ , thank you,” the queen pouts.

“Oh, my god. Tiny,” Aquaria coos, reaching up and pinching Cracker’s cheeks. If Monet were there, she would keel over and die, for sure.

“Shut up,” Cracker’s cheeks, already red from scrubbing off her makeup, flush a little darker, but she doesn’t bat away Aquaria’s hands like she would anybody else.

“So now what? Should we fuck?” Aquaria asks casually, looking around the room for the first time and realizing that nobody else is there with them.

“Aren’t you a little young to be losing your virginity, madam?”

“Bitch, if you are going to continue with the age jokes I’m going to have to go the other end of the spectrum,” Aquaria warns. “Old cow.”

“Wow, she’s a comedy queen after all! Bianca Del Rio is shaking in her weave,” Cracker laughs slightly.

There’s a small silence, but it’s not even uncomfortable.

“I don’t remember why I hate you,” Aquaria says softly, meeting the other queen’s eyes and smiling slightly.

“Jealousy?” Cracker offers, but it’s a meek answer with no indication of wanting to keep up a joke as she stares back at her nemesis with eyes that hold no indication that before this competition she hated the queen sitting next to her.

"Um," Aquaria starts to say, but loses her train of thought. Their faces seem to be getting closer, and she can make out all faint smudges of black around Cracker's softly blinking eyes from where her eye makeup used to sit.

 _It's happening,_ Cracker's breath hitches.

The door to the room crashes open.

The pair jump apart, each of their faces burning red as Mayhem runs in, screaming that she forgot her shoes.

After she's gone, Cracker and Aquaria look at each other and laugh.

"Well, that moment's well and truly gone," says Cracker, shaking her head at the thought of what was about to happen between this girl she was supposed to hate.

"You wanna grab a drink or something?" the girl in question asks, suddenly sounding a little timid, vulnerability plastered on her face.

Cracker contemplates making another age joke, but decides it would be better not to.

"Yeah," she says instead. "Let's do it."

 _this is literally so bad_ cyaaa

**Author's Note:**

> i also would like to say i started looking at the craquaria tag on tumblr for fun when i was scrolling through the drag race tag the day after miz cracker was eliminated and for some reason became really invested in their relationship. don't bash me for being a craquaria shipper. or do. i don't care. cya


End file.
